


Revision

by tipitiwitchet (no_one_in_particular)



Category: DCU (Animated), Under the Red Hood
Genre: M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:59:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4802033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_one_in_particular/pseuds/tipitiwitchet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason comes back with a new plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revision

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kassidy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kassidy/gifts).



> So here's my stab at Under the Red Hood. Following what my darling kassidy did with it was pretty damn intimidating (go read her Red Hood series - it's so very good). Here's the prompt she gave:
> 
> Nightwing/Jason Todd willingly, or under someone's nefarious influence;) Dubcon is good. Can also be threeway with Batman or Tim Drake.
> 
> I don't know if this truly fits the prompt, but it's what came to me and I know that she'd say that you should go with what's cooking for you. Happy Cream-filled Donut Day, Petal! I hope you like it : ) Love you!

When his phone buzzed, Dick looked at the screen and knew right away it was Alfred–he was the only one in the mansion to use the landline now—so he expected the clipped, precise voice on the other end of the line. He didn’t expect the barely perceptible waver underlying it as Alfred delivered his news.

“Master Bruce has been shot.”

It was all over the radio as Dick sped toward Gotham. He heard it over and over. “Billionaire Bruce Wayne has been shot. Police are on the scene, but are not answering questions. The Hospital has not commented on Wayne’s condition.”

Fortunately, Alfred was waiting for him and he had a lot more information. Bruce had been shot at a Charity event. The bullet had hit him in the shoulder and there was damage, but it wasn’t life threatening. No one else had been hurt. 

Dick took a deep breath and sat down next to Alfred in the waiting room. Bruce was in surgery. He took a couple of phone calls from Commissioner Gordon, but let all the other calls go to voice mail. The rest of the time, he stared at the Spanish soap operas on the TV in the corner and occasionally looked over at Alfred who wasn’t looking at anything at all. When he couldn’t sit any longer, Dick went in search of coffee. 

The cafeteria was dim and deserted, but he found a machine in the hallway. He stared into the lukewarm cup of grayish liquid with an undissolved lump of creamer in it that the machine had given him and knew he couldn’t take it back to Alfred. Fortunately, one of the night nurses had a box of fairly decent Earl Grey tea bags tucked in her locker and was happy to make a cup. She even added a splash of real milk from the refrigerator in the nurses’ lounge.

Alfred smiled when Dick handed him the steaming cup, a tired, wan smile, but a smile nonetheless. He sipped at his tea and sighed. “I should tell you…”

Dick sat back down beside him and put his cup of cold sludge down next to the chair. “What, Alfred?”

“I saw Master Bruce briefly before they took him to surgery. He said that Jason was the one who shot him.”

**

They finally got to see Bruce in the early morning after he had recovered from the anesthesia enough to be moved into a room. They didn’t stay long. Bruce was still groggy and didn’t talk much, just a demand to go home and a request for water. Dick held the cup for him while he drank and sat beside the bed until he was asleep and then he took Alfred home.

He insisted that Alfred get some sleep, but Dick couldn’t rest. He spent the morning making arrangements. He planned to stay at the mansion for a while. Fortunately, things were relatively quiet in Blüdhaven lately, so he figured he could swing through for short patrols every couple of days or so and concentrate on Gotham, so Bruce could recover. 

He called the hospital and made sure that Bruce was resting comfortably before he went down to the Batcave. He had known about Jason being alive. Alfred had told him. Bruce refused to talk about it, insisting that there was nothing to discuss. It didn’t seem real to Dick. He had mourned Jason, stood over his grave, spent months figuring out how to live with the hole in life that Jason had left, and now he was alive again. Dick knew it was a fact, but it hadn’t sunk in yet.

He went to the Batcave and pulled up the footage of Red Hood. He sat in Bruce’s chair in front of the screen and watched it over and over trying to find something of the coltish, rangy teenager he’d known but he couldn’t see him. Finally, he closed his eyes and examined his memory. Jason had shot up fairly quickly, as teenaged boys tended to do, limbs suddenly overshooting sleeves and pant legs that had fit perfectly a few days before. Dick frowned at the memory of the lanky boy. The kid he was remembering hadn’t been finished, not by a long shot. Even through the flawed lens of his memory, he could see the potential for bulk and strength. He could practically draw the outline of the body that would be around the body he was conjuring in his mind’s eye.

Dick opened his eyes and looked back at the screen and for the first time, he saw Jason, really saw him. He didn’t know now how he could have missed it: the way he ran, the way he jumped, the chances he took, and the skill he displayed. This was Jason. Without a doubt, this was Jason.

It was real. Dick sat in the Batcave and looked at Jason’s old Robin costume in its pristine glass case and shook as he finally absorbed the truth of it. Jason was alive.

**

After Alfred finished his nap, they had a quick brunch together and went back to the hospital. Bruce was awake and sitting up when they got to the room, his left arm in a sling and his jaw clenched as he studied a tray in front of him.

He looked up as they walked in. “I’m leaving.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Sure about that, are you?”

Bruce glowered at him. “I am leaving this hospital.”

Alfred sighed and sat down in a chair by the bed. “Of course you are. Shall I go and find some scissors to remove your stitches, or are you just planning to chew them loose?”

Bruce clenched his jaw tighter and went back to studying his jello.

Dick offered a compromise. “Why don’t you let me go talk to the doctor and see what he says?”

Bruce managed to answer without unclenching his jaw at all. “Fine.”

Dick sighed and left him with Alfred while he went to the nurse’s station to ask about the doctor. The nurse at the desk gave him a rather suspicious look when he mentioned Bruce’s name but warmed as he gave her his best sheepish look, the one that said, “I know he’s a jerk, but can’t you help me with him, please?”

Unfortunately, his inquiries drew the hospital administrator who’s obvious, eager greed had Dick hearing cash registers dinging around his head. He remained insistent that he needed to speak to the surgeon and was eventually rewarded with a quick meeting with a competent, but somewhat harried young woman who told him that there was no reason why Bruce couldn’t be released so long as he had ample help at home and the ability to arrange for physical therapy.

He shared a conspiratorial look with the nurse at the desk as he started the paperwork for Bruce’s release while the administrator hovered, insisting that it would be no trouble at all for Bruce to stay and recuperate for a day or two, dollar signs in his eyes as he suggested tests, “just to be on the safe side”. Dick put him off and returned to the room.

“Okay, you’re sprung. We just have to wait on some paperwork and we can take you home.”

Bruce gave Alfred a look of triumph as Dick dropped into a chair and asked, “So tell me why you think Jason did this?”

Bruce turned toward him, losing his victorious expression. “Let me worry about it.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “That just isn’t going to happen. Spill.”

Bruce was looking at his jello again. Maybe he found it soothing. “I saw him. He waited to shoot until I did.”

“Where was he?”

“In the building across the street. It was a straight shot into the party.”

Dick frowned. “So he stood there in plain view and waited for you to get in position? And then he didn’t take the shot until you saw him?”

Bruce picked up a fork and started digging at the jello. “That’s right.”

“Doesn’t make sense, not if he wanted you dead.”

Bruce threw the fork down on the tray. “He doesn’t want me dead, not right now anyway. I’m just not sure what this was supposed to accomplish. Maybe he just wanted to remind me he’s out there.”

Dick sighed. “Maybe. I’ll go for a patrol later. I’ll poke around a little, see what I can find.”

“I’ll go.”

Dick shook his head and smiled. “You know you can’t even go home right now without our help. You don’t have any pants. I think you’ll do whatever Alfred and I say for a while.”

Bruce looked so startled that even Alfred laughed.

**

The next few days were busy. Dick patrolled Gotham and Blüdhaven and made a couple of extra runs in a Batman costume, just so Batman was still seen on the street a few times. The criminals were kind of a relief after dealing with Bruce all day. He was not an easy patient, and he wanted to do more than was wise. There was no word of Jason, no trace of him in Gotham, and Dick was beginning to think that Bruce was right about the shooting being a reminder.

Three days after Bruce got out of the hospital the note came, slipped under the front door in a plain white envelope addressed to Bruce. 

_I’ve let the Joker out of Arkham. I’ve given him a pretty massive cocktail of psychedelic drugs with a few chemical additions to ensure a sustained release, so he’s not coming down for a long time, and I’ve left him in a warehouse full of all kinds of interesting weapons. I suggest you take care of this for good.  
-J_

Dick confirmed that the Joker was no longer in Arkham by calling Commissioner Gordon. While he was doing that, Bruce searched Gotham’s public records to track down the warehouse. He found three possibilities, all within a few blocks of each other. Dick took the information he printed out and started to walk away with it.

“You’re not going. I am.”

Dick stopped and half-turned. “You’re still out of commission. He obviously shot you so you would be. He’s taking away your options, hobbling you, so you have no choice but to do what he wants.”

Bruce shook his head. “There are always options. This is my problem. You have to let me deal with it.”

Dick turned on his heel. “Jason isn’t just yours.”

Bruce looked at Dick for a long moment before dropping his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry.”

**

They eventually split up the addresses with Nightwing taking two of them and Batman one. Batman’s left arm was strapped to his chest and covered by his cape. He couldn’t go swinging from building to building, but he’d just have to hope he wouldn’t have to. 

There was nothing in the first building Nightwing checked but dust and vermin. He alerted Batman that he was going to the next building. Batman replied that he was just about to enter the last warehouse. 

By the time he reached the next address, Nightwing was a little concerned that he hadn’t heard anything else from Batman, but he decided to go ahead and check out his current location and then move on to assist him if needed. The warehouse wasn’t hard to get into. It seemed as empty and barren as the first building had been until Nightwing reached a staircase and saw the red ribbon draped over the steps.

The ribbon reached all the way to the top of the staircase where it ended as a bow on the knob of the door leading out to the roof. Nightwing slowly opened the door and stepped through to the sight of Jason several feet away, leaning on the brick parapet at the edge of the roof and watching Batman and Joker on the brightly lit roof of another building a couple of streets over. His red helmet was at his feet and his hair was mussed. It was shorter than it had been before. He hadn’t liked haircuts as a kid.

He looked over at the door when the Nightwing stepped onto the roof. “Don’t worry. They’re just talking. Again.” He turned back to look at them. “It’s actually pretty boring, not much of a story. I mean, can you imagine how dull it would have been if say, Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader had spent three movies just talking?”

Nightwing closed the door behind him. “That was a different kind of story. Darth Vader was Luke’s father.”

Jason laughed a little. “Yeah, this is definitely not a father and son story. I was just a short, bloody chapter.” 

“I think you’re over simplifying.”

Jason pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “I think you’re still in Bruce’s pocket, but that’s okay. I already knew that.”

Nightwing shook his head. “You’re still wearing the mask. It may be hidden under that helmet most of the time, but you haven’t given it up. You’re still one of us. Come back. Let me help you.”

Jason smiled and pulled a cigarette out of the pack. “You don’t even know what I am, Dickie Bird.” He put the cigarette between his lips and blew.

Nightwing put his hand up to his throat and pulled out the tiny dart. Stupid. Careless. He fell to his knees.

Jason pulled a small device from his other pocket and pointed it at Dick. A blast of light and a high-pitched zap noise and his mask went dead. 

Jason walked over and pushed him over face first onto the roof before rolling him over. “That should take care of your electronics.” He started removing Nightwing’s boots and gauntlets. Dick heard his Escrima sticks clatter across the roof, the sound echoing loudly in his skull.

Jason pulled out a very large knife from his boot. “Stay very still.” He tapped the blade against Dick’s chest. “I don’t want to remove any skin when I do this.

Dick didn’t answer, just reached out a hand to touch Jason’s face and trace around his mask. His eyes were so green.

Jason laughed. “Just a minute. Let me do this.”

Ordinary blades wouldn’t cut Nightwing’s body suit, but Jason knew that and came prepared. It still wasn’t easy and the knife slipped a couple of times as Jason worked it between the armor plates. It didn’t hurt though. Nothing hurt.

Jason sat back on his heels to admire his handiwork, running his hands over Dick’s scars and smearing bloody fingerprints over his skin. There was a floodlight behind his head that looked like a halo, but Jason was no angel. He was alive, warm, here.

“This won’t…”

“What? This won’t work? Sure it will.” Jason leaned in close. “Shooting Bruce got you to Gotham. I left just the right clues to get you into this building and him into that one. I really didn’t expect him to kill the Joker. Don’t get me wrong—I would have been happy to see it happen, but I’ve given up on Bruce.” He ran a gloved hand down Dick’s flank and Dick pushed into the touch. “I’m starting a new story, me and you.”

He grabbed Dick’s cock and squeezed. Dick moaned and arched while he stroked him. Jason leaned down farther, right next to Dick’s ear. “I’m going to fuck you, and when I’m done, I’m going to leave you here on display for Bruce. He’ll probably never be able to look you in the eye again. It’ll be you and me. We’ll fight and we’ll fuck and eventually you’ll see that I’m right and you’ll join me. We’re the future. We’re going to rule this town.”

Dick was so taken by Jason’s low voice in his ear, he didn’t even expect the orgasm, but it was amazing. He spurted all over his belly and clutched at Jason’s jacket while surprised tears ran down his face. Jason smiled and kept jerking him. Dick realized that he was still hard, still desperate, and he moaned again.

Jason chuckled. “You meet the most creative chemists when you take over the entire city’s drug trade. Don’t worry; it probably won’t cause any permanent damage.”

There was an explosion then, loud and bright, and Dick tried to sit up, but Jason put his hand on his chest and pushed him back down hard. It knocked the wind out of him and Dick coughed and panted while Jason frowned down at him.

He pulled a small device from his left ear. “Relax, I planted a bug on the Joker. They’re fine, but if you’re so easily distracted, I must not be all that interesting. Guess I’ll have to up my game.”

He tossed the earpiece away and ran a hand down Dick’s face. Dick smelled leather and his own spunk and he tasted them when Jason shoved two fingers into his mouth. Ash drifted through the air around them and there were sirens somewhere close by, but Dick just closed his eyes and sucked Jason’s fingers.

Jason pulled his fingers from Dick’s mouth and ran his hand down to his throat. “Good boy. You just need to focus. Let’s work on that.”

He pressed down on Dick’s windpipe and leaned over his body to mouth at his cock. Dick struggled, or maybe he just thought he did because Jason’s hand didn’t budge from his throat. Jason just squeezed a little harder and sucked him in a little deeper. Dick started to see spots and the world spun around him.

Dick choked out, “Jason, please, please, Jay…”

Jason let up, but didn’t let go. He pulled off Dick’s cock with a pop and smiled at him. Jason smiled a lot now, Dick thought. 

“Are you focusing, Dick?” He licked the length of Dick’s cock and bit lightly at the head. Dick banged his head against the roof and keened.

“I guess you are. Let’s keep going.” He squeezed Dick’s throat again and swallowed him down to the root, sucking hard. Dick’s heels drummed against the roof and he clawed at Jason’s hand around his throat. Jason was relentless, however, squeezing tighter and sucking harder until Dick came again, harder even than he had before. He saw bright lights going off like flashbulbs in his head, and then everything went dark.

He didn’t know how long he’d been out, but he came to with Jason straddling his chest and smacking his face. “You back with me? Come on, Dick. We’re not done here.”

Dick coughed weakly and tried to slap at Jason, but his arms were pinned. “Get some air, Dick.” Jason opened his fly. “You’re going to need it.”

Dick whimpered and watched Jason stroke himself. “You’re going to suck my dick, Dick.” Jason laughed. “You know, that is never going to get old. I’m calling it right now. Open up.”

Jason grabbed his thick cock and leaned forward, pushing it against Dick's lips. He could feel moisture dripping from the tip of it, enough that it ran down the side of his mouth. Jason pressed a thumb into the hinge of Dick's jaw until he opened up and let him in, pushing until Dick's nose was pressed into his pubic hair. Jason smelled like clean sweat and gunpowder. It figured that he'd keep a gun there.

Jason let up on his jaw and ran a hand through Dick's hair instead, grabbing a handful at the back of his head and using it to pull Dick's mouth further onto his prick. Dick was vaguely aware that he was keeping up a steady murmur, but he only caught a few words, "Your mouth... fuck... done this years ago... look at you take it." Jason kept rocking into his mouth, his throat the whole time, cutting off his airway.

Gray haze started to creep over Dick's awareness and he was ready to tip back into unconsciousness, but Jason pulled away and suddenly there was air again. Dick gulped at it and choked on the saliva pooled in his mouth. Jason rubbed it away when it spilled down his chin, smiling at him again. Dick wished he would let him roll over on his side, but Jason stayed where he was until Dick quieted.

"Think it's time to get on with it." Jason pulled something out of his inner jacket pocket. Dick realized that it was a couple of lengths of nylon rope when Jason started to tie them around his wrists.

"Jay, don't." Dick's voice sounded oddly childish, like a sleepy toddler.

Jason was moving around, tying his wrists to his ankles. "Shh, this'll make things easier. You won't have to hold your legs up." He grinned. "Sometime though, we're going to put those acrobat skills of yours to work."

Dick shook his head, words beyond him. He knew how to get out of this. He just couldn't remember. He had to think. 

Jason was kneeling in front of him, looking at him spread open and helpless. He stroked down Dick's crack and then back up to roll his balls briefly in his hand before taking hold of his cock and jerking him again, and Dick forgot what he'd been trying to do. He just wanted Jason to keep touching him.

Jason pulled a small bottle out of his pocket and popped the cap with his thumb. Dick felt something cold and wet run down between his legs and then he felt Jay's fingers, still gloved, pushing in. Two? Three? He wasn't sure. Jason was still stroking his cock as he worked his fingers in and out of him and the pain and the pleasure were mixing so he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

Dick may have blacked out for a few seconds because he wasn't sure when Jason replaced his fingers with his cock, but he was thrusting into Dick's ass, grasping at his thighs and cursing in a long, endless chant under his breath, “So fucking tight wanna mark you up so you’ll remember that you belong with me like this god the ass on you you’re so gorgeous like this all trussed up for me all loose and boneless and letting me do whatever I want with you fuck.”

Jason pushed up on Dick’s legs, raising his ass higher in the air, and hit a spot that made Dick scream and come over his stomach. It seemed to take forever this time, spunk rolling down his belly in thick rivulets while he shook and pulled at his bonds. Jay laughed and thrust harder, grating Dick's back against the rooftop, until he stilled and shuddered, his face twisted into something Dick couldn't recognize for a long moment before he collapsed on top of him.

He looked like Jason again when he lifted his head. "That was great." He pulled out and Dick felt something warm ooze out of him.

Jason tucked himself back into his pants and untied the knots on Dick's ankles. Dick started to lift an arm, meaning to to work the knots around his wrists loose, but Jason stood and yanked on the ropes so his arms were jerked above his head and then he was being dragged across the roof back toward the door. 

There was a ring set in the wall where the door was. Jason tied the ropes to it. It was high enough that he had to stand on a crate to reach it, and when he was done, Dick was on his tiptoes up against the wall. He was still hard.

Jason finally took his gloves off and tossed them away. He cupped Dick's face in his hand, and Dick realized, now that they were standing so close, that Jay had gotten taller than him. "More afterglow next time, I promise," said Jason, and then he kissed Dick, pushing his tongue into his mouth and biting lightly at his lips as he pulled away.

"Don't leave me here, Jay." There was that little boy voice again. 

Jay reached down to pump his cock a few times, looking pleased when Dick moaned and jerked at the ropes. "You'll be fine. Batman will be here soon. I have to go now, so I can make sure he finds you instead of the cops or somebody else." 

Dick yanked at the ropes again and yelled wordlessly as Jason walked away to the roof's edge, where he jumped onto the parapet and waved. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Dick.” He jumped and disappeared over the edge.

Dick kept yelling and screaming and twisting against the ropes for a long time.

**

Dick woke up in a bed with Bruce sleeping in a chair beside him. He started to sit up and realized that he was in restraints.

Bruce opened his eyes almost immediately when Dick moved. He leaned forward in his chair and said, “Dick, do you know where you are?”

Dick nodded. “My old room.” His voice was dry and scratchy like an old record.

Bruce nodded. “How many fingers?” He held up three.

Dick smiled a little and said, “Peace plus one.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him. “Any nausea? Double vision?”

“No and no. I kind of hurt all over though.”

Bruce nodded and moved to unbuckle the restraints. It was slow going since his arm was still in a sling, but once he got one, Dick was able to help undo the other side.

“You were delirious and uncontrollable. Now that you’re lucid, do you want to go to the hospital?”

Dick rubbed at his wrists. They were raw and it wasn’t from the padded restraints Bruce had put on the bed. “No. No, I don’t… No.”

Bruce nodded. “Whatever you want. Do you feel like you can stand? You should move around a little.”

“Do you think I could have a shower? Some hot water would be good.”

Bruce helped him up and watched as he walked slowly to the bathroom. “Alfred made soup. I’ll ask him to dish some up.”

Dick waved and closed the door. He pulled off the pajama pants he was wearing and stepped into the shower. He hissed when the water hit his scraped up back, but after a moment he started to feel a little better. He picked up the soap and washcloth and started washing everything he could reach, which was mostly everything. He did his best to examine with his fingers what he couldn’t see, but couldn’t find any major damage. Finally, he hung the washcloth over the shower door and just stood under the water for a long time.

When he came out of the bathroom wrapped in a white terry robe, Bruce was sitting at a table near the window where Alfred had laid out two bowls of chicken soup. Dick walked over and picked up the glass of ice water next to his bowl and drained the whole thing before he sat down. 

Bruce picked up the pitcher from the cart next to the table and refilled it. “You have the right idea. You need to rehydrate.”

Dick took another long drink and nodded. “Tell me about the Joker.”

Bruce picked up his spoon and stirred his soup. “He’s back in Arkham. He should definitely be kept away from psychedelics. They made him…”

“Super crazy?” 

“Melancholy.” Bruce shook his head. “It was disturbing. He just wanted to destroy everything. Not for whatever reasons he’s had in the past; he just wanted it all gone.”

“At least now we know you can take him with one arm tied behind your back, or to your chest anyway.”

Bruce grunted. “You should try to eat. Alfred will be very unhappy if you don’t.”

Dick took a spoonful of soup. It was good. “Do you know where Jason is?”

Bruce looked down into his bowl. “No, I saw him from a distance. He yelled at me to go get you, so I did. I don’t know where he went after that.” 

Dick shook his head. “I don’t remember you getting me down from the roof.”

Bruce kept looking into the bowl. “You were irrational, out of your mind. I couldn’t sedate you because I didn’t know what he gave you. It’s better you don’t remember it.”

Bruce was still looking into his bowl, not meeting Dick’s gaze at all, and in that moment, Dick knew that he’d done something. Finding him naked and wailing would have been bad, but Bruce could have been clinical about it. Something had happened, something that shook Bruce. Dick dropped his spoon. He’d propositioned Bruce. He’d probably begged him. He would never get Bruce to tell him, but he knew.

Alfred came in before he gathered his wits enough to say anything else. He was holding a white envelope. “This was left at the front door.”

Bruce held out his hand for it, but Alfred shook his head. “This one is addressed to Master Dick.”

Dick took the envelope and opened it to find a single sheet of folded paper inside. 

_Come find me. I’m waiting.  
-J_


End file.
